The Best Friend I Ever Had
by coonskin
Summary: After the events of "Testimony of a Traitor," Buck requests a day or two off and leaves the ship. Wilma and Hawk go after him.
1. Chapter 1

_"You know, as much as this charge of treason hurts, there's one thing that hurts even more."_

 _"What's that?"_

 _"The best friend I ever had died thinking I betrayed him and his country."_

(BR)

Wilma was surprised the next morning not to find Buck in the lounge at breakfast. He had seemed to want his friends around the previous day, had even come up to the bridge for company when he couldn't sleep. When exhaustion had finally forced him to his quarters, overcoming even his residual jangled nerves from the whole ordeal of the trial, she had accompanied him down there as far as the door, making sure of his destination and urging him to go to bed, and he had promised her that he would. He had looked half asleep already.

But by this morning, several hours later, he should have been up. He should have been ready once more for some reassurance by being around his new "family" of his shipmates. Hawk was at breakfast, which he often skipped in favor of a private meal in his quarters, but today, he had expected Buck as well, which he admitted when she sat down to join him.

"I thought he'd be here," Hawk said. He didn't bother to specify whom he meant by "he."

"So did I." Wilma nibbled a food disk. "He could still be asleep, I guess, but I would have expected him to wake up by now."

"We'll go to his quarters to check once we have finished eating," Hawk suggested, and somehow, the meal accelerated for both of them.

There was no response at Buck's cabin, and after calling and activating the door chime a few times, Wilma reluctantly used her administrative override. The doors opened, but Buck was nowhere in his quarters. He had apparently slept last night or at least been in his bunk; the blanket was still rumpled and pushed back out of the way, as if he had gotten up abruptly. But he wasn't here.

The two concerned friends went on up to the bridge, where Asimov was standing watching the star field. "Admiral," Wilma asked, "have you seen Buck today?"

"Yes, I have. He came to my quarters this morning quite early, apologized for waking me up, and asked for a day or two off. Given the circumstances, I couldn't refuse him that."

Wilma frowned. "A day or two off? What was he going to do? Did he leave the ship?"

"He said he was taking his starfighter, but he did say he'd be back soon." Asimov sighed. "I'm a little concerned, too, Colonel, but given what he's been through, I can understand him needing some space."

"Do you know where he went?"

"I assume back to Earth, but he didn't say. Maybe he wanted to revisit Chicago after the trial. Some sort of remembrance. It is his home town, after all."

"How did he seem when he spoke to you?" Hawk asked.

"Tense and edgy," Asimov admitted. "Look, I think we should give him a day or two as he requested. Any longer, and I'll definitely send people to look for him, but right now, maybe he just needs to be alone."

Wilma and Hawk looked at each other in silent shared thought. Neither of them thought Buck needed to be alone. "Is that an order, Admiral?" she asked.

Asimov shook his head. "That's my official position."

"Request a day or two off, Admiral," Wilma said promptly, with Hawk an only slightly delayed echo.

"Granted," he replied promptly. "Now mind you, I don't know for a fact what you're doing. But good luck, both of you."

"Thank you, sir," Wilma said, and they turned in unison and left the bridge.


	2. Chapter 2

The Searcher had cleared the solar system at this point, but piloting Wilma's starfighter through the nearest stargate dropped them neatly back off at the closest point to Earth.

"If he's not on Earth, where else would we start looking?" Wilma worried.

"Let us, as Buck would say, cross that bridge when we come to it," Hawk advised. "I am fairly confident he went to Earth, given the trial. Too strong a connection there time wise. The question we're left with is where to look on Earth. There are still several possibilities."

"Yes, there are, but hopefully, I can narrow that down a little bit," Wilma said. "I have friends who can help us search the entry ports." Earth was looming up ahead, a blue marble in space, and she contacted New Chicago. Twenty minutes later, they had landed at the directorate complex. Hawk looked around a bit uneasily and drew within himself as she walked along the familiar hallways. His own trial was still too close for him to feel entirely comfortable this close to Earth's government. She knew that it was a testimony to his regard for Buck that he had come here with her.

Dr. Huer hadn't changed at all. He was sitting in his office talking to Dr. Theopolis when she entered. "Colonel!" He came to his feet and came around the table to grasp her hand. "I'm glad to see you again." He looked past her to Hawk. "You must be Hawk," he said, smoothly polite as ever, and extended a hand. Hawk shook it. "What brings you back to Earth? I thought the Searcher had left again."

"Yes, it has. We're looking for Buck." Her hopes were dropping a little. Buck clearly hadn't visited his old friend earlier today.

Dr. Huer frowned. "He didn't go with the ship?"

"He did, but he left again very early this morning. Asked the Admiral for a day or two off and simply vanished. He didn't say where he was going."

"I see." Dr. Huer sighed. "I know about the trial and what he's been through, of course. I was following it by holovision. I couldn't intervene, however; I hope Buck understood that."

"I'm sure he did." Wilma asked the question, though she was sure of the answer. "You haven't seen him today?"

"No, I haven't."

Theo gave a polite flash of his lights before entering the conversation. "I show no record of Captain Rogers landing in New Chicago today, either at the directorate complex or the central space port. I will broaden the request to all other major ports in North America, but it will take a little time. Not every port is run as efficiently as this one." His tone almost reminded Wilma slightly of Crighton for a moment.

"Thank you." She was controlling the conversation; Hawk hadn't said a word so far. "How are you, Theo?"

"I am very well, thank you. How is Twiki doing?"

"He's the same as ever. Do you have a new ambuquad assisting you?"

"Yes. He is working elsewhere at the moment, but I have Macron. He is much more reliable and steady than Twiki. Always where he should be, always follows orders. Completely..."

Theo hesitated, and Wilma filled in the blank with a smile. "Boring?"

"Quite," Dr. Huer admitted, and Theo flashed his lights in what passed for him as a smile.

"Buck didn't take Twiki with him when he left the ship?" Dr. Huer asked.

"No. He was totally alone."

Huer shook his head. "He doesn't need to be totally alone right now. Not after what he's been through the last few days. He needs to be reminded that he has people here for him, especially since he got reminded so strongly of everything and everyone he lost."

"Not just reminded of it but accused of causing it," Wilma added. "Hawk and I are worried about him."

"Yes, I am, too. For someone as loyal as Buck, being accused of treason must have hurt more than anything else they could have charged him with," Huer said.

His words abruptly triggered a memory from a few days ago for Wilma. Buck, in his cabin, totally shaken and as near giving up as she had ever seen him. Buck, saying that one thing hurt even worse than the treason charge. "Jim Anderson," she said.

Hawk hadn't heard that remark from Buck, but he followed her train of thought and entered the conversation for the first time. "That could be it. Buck said he was his best friend. Also his accuser on that first tape."

Huer came to attention. "So he was. Yes, that might lead to some possibilities." He turned to the round computer brain on the table. "Dr. Theophilus..."

"I am already calculating along those lines," Theo replied. The room was tensely silent for several seconds, and then he spoke. "Jim Anderson's home town was Phoenix, now the site of New Phoenix. Most of the time he worked with Buck, he would have lived in either Washington DC or Houston. Washington DC does not exist anymore; New Houston does." His lights flashed at a furious rate as another minute passed. "Captain Rogers landed a starfighter at the port of New Houston two hours ago."

"Thank you, Theo." Wilma turned for the door. Hawk was already halfway to it. Dr. Huer, watching, envied them their freedom from duty and wished them speed in finding Buck.


	3. Chapter 3

Buck had been too exhausted to lie awake long the night before; he'd barely slept the night between the charge and the trial, after all. But his dreams tormented him. Worst of all was one of Jim Anderson recording on video for posterity what he thought Buck's actions had been, saying that he regretted having mourned for him.

The third time Buck snapped awake out of a dream of his former best friend, he couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't sure what he had in mind, but he knew that he needed to do _something_. Even if Jim was beyond hearing the explanation, Buck had to find symbolic closure on this somehow, or it was going to drive him crazy.

He got up and dressed, then walked through the nearly deserted hallways to the Admiral's quarters. Even when outside of the effect of Earth's night and day, the Searcher did its best to maintain cicardian rhythm, and other than the ones working the "night" shift and keeping an eye on the ship, almost everyone was asleep. The Admiral clearly was; it took a few door chimes for him to respond.

"Buck!" The Admiral was surprised to find him standing at the doorway of the cabin. "I thought you'd be sound asleep."

"I was." Buck didn't bother correcting the sound part. "Admiral, could I have a day or two off? I need to . . . do a few things."

Asimov looked at him with unmistakeable sympathy. "Yes, of course, Buck. I understand after the last couple of days."

"Thank you." Buck turned away but paused to add a word of reassurance. "I'll be back. I'm taking my starfighter, but I _will_ be back."

After taking the stargate to near Earth, he flew along the Atlantic coast. It was unpopulated, devastated, the scars of the holocaust still visible 500 years later. The major cities along the east coast, of course, had been leveled early in the fight. They were too good of targets to miss. New York. The big shipyard at Norfolk. Washington DC. There was nothing but seared, scarred land. Buck flew around the area of DC. The monuments were gone. The capital was gone. The people he had known and worked with here, all gone. He shivered.

Finally, feeling like he was lost in a cemetery, he snapped to himself and realized that he needed to get somewhere else. He needed some people around, even if strangers. To stay here and study the wreckage of DC wasn't doing much for him. If Jim Anderson's ghost was here, it had far too much company to hold a conversation with.

Johnson Space Center in Houston. He would go there. Maybe there, he would find whatever it was he was looking for. He flew across the country, admiring the starfighter's speed. This took a little time, but even the Concorde would have been left in the dust by this craft. He contacted the main space port; best to park the starfighter in a secured hanger. While he could set down on the outskirts of New Houston, it might not be a good idea with people around.

Once he landed and secured his ship, he headed outside and stood looking around. Everything was utterly alien. There was a directional assistant computer standing just outside the space port, and he called up a map of the city, doing his best to overlay mentally a map of the old Houston. Once he thought he had his direction, he took a couple of local transits to the edge of the rebuilt area, then got off and walked on.

Johnson Space Center. He couldn't count the times he had been here. It had never looked like this. New Houston, much like New Chicago, had a reconstructed, environmentally controlled bubble over the main city, and outside of that was on the rough side to put it mildly, though Texas fittingly still wasn't as dangerous as Chicago. His destination lay outside the bubble, though not far outside. He stood looking at the wreckage, at the wasteland. He wasn't sure what he had expected to find here, but this wasn't it.

Still, it was better than DC. There were even some people around, gawkers and street people both. He wanted to stop them, shake them, ask if they realized where they were standing and what had happened here. All the history. All the lives. It was over.

"Houston," he said softly to himself, "we have a problem."


	4. Chapter 4

Buck wasn't sure how long he stood there. Eventually, even the few people around him faded away from his awareness, and he was focused totally on the past, ignoring them. Finally, he spoke softly.

"Jim, if you can hear me...it wasn't me. I don't know what happened, but it wasn't me that started it. I was working undercover. They had hypnotized me to make my performance realistic, but the upper levels were monitoring me all the way, waiting to get everybody on the hook before they moved in. That's why that recording you found even existed. But I guess it doesn't make any difference anyway who started it. You're still dead. A lot of Earth is dead. Things are so different, and nobody but me really knows how it was." He sighed. "Sometimes, once in a while, I even wish I'd died myself so I'd never have learned how it was all destroyed. Including you. Especially all the people I knew. You're all gone, and you didn't even get to live out full lives."

The sun was starting to set now, the temperature outside the controlled city beginning to fall, but he wasn't aware of it. He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of Earth's past, feeling like a piece of it.

(BR)

Dr. Theopolis had been trying to calculate further during Hawk and Wilma's cross-country flight and had sent some suggestions. The problem was, there was no reliable map of old Houston anymore. Theo had come up with a few possible old locations for Buck to visit, Johnson Space Center leading those, but even his impressive computer banks could not say exactly where it had been. There was wreckage scattered around, but smashed and scavenged former buildings now reduced to rubble all tended to look a bit alike, especially when viewed hundreds of years after the fact with no reliable records still existing. The best guess Theo could give them is that he thought it was somewhere on the north side of the current city, shortly outside the environmental bubble.

Once they arrived at New Houston, Wilma decided not to park the starfighter in the space port, though she did verify that Buck's craft was still there. Buck had the advantage of being probably the only person in the galaxy who could call up mentally a map of old Houston and orient it to a new one. Tracking him through public transit for them would be like hunting a needle in a haystack, even given the general direction, not even guaranteed to be correct, of north. Instead, she decided to just fly the starfighter along on the outskirts of the bubble, searching for Buck from the air.

So now she was flying along at a much lower speed as Hawk used both his sharp eyes and the scanners on the ship to search. The few people around looked up at them curiously, and many ducked away warily back into the rubble.

Hawk shook his head. "Humans have destroyed their own planet nearly as well as they have other races."

"Not all humans do things like this, Hawk," she reminded him. "In fact, most of them don't. But yes, our history is pretty bleak from that period." Especially looking at this wrecked wasteland.

Hawk suddenly came alert. "Do you have something?" Wilma asked eagerly.

"Possibly." He fine tuned a few settings on the scanner, then looked out the viewscreen, eagerly waiting for his eyes to catch up to the computer scan of the ground ahead. "There is one person up ahead who is standing absolutely still. I should be able to see him soon." He leaned forward a little in the seat as if that would help.

"Just standing still?" Wilma asked. Nobody else was motionless, not out here. Everyone here was heading somewhere, especially as the sun began to set. The number of people out in the open was dropping rapidly every minute. The outside was dangerous at night, and everyone knew it.

"Totally still," Hawk confirmed. "There!" He leaned forward even more, pointing at the forward window. It took Wilma another several seconds of approach to spot him with her less-sharp eyes. Yes, it was Buck. He stood out by his very motionlessness, so unusual for him. Buck was almost never still, but now, he might have been a piece of the wreckage and rubble, resting here for centuries.

"Trouble!" Hawk said. "Just west of him, Wilma." She spotted it herself a moment later. A short distance from Buck, four other people approached. They were coming up slightly behind him, and their approach became more stealthy with each step. Two of them carried rough clubs of some sort. Buck was absolutely oblivious to the threat, still standing like a statue, looking away from the gang.

Wilma hit the throttle, and the starfighter jumped, closing the distance rapidly. She sent it scorching directly between Buck and his stalkers, then flipped it into a quick turn and came roaring back through the gap.

The gang members lost interest at once, turning around and bolting for cover. None of them cared to take on a directorate fighter. Buck himself jumped as the starfighter screeched by fifty feet behind him, and for the first time since Hawk had spotted him, he moved, looking around. Unlike the others, he didn't run, watching the craft, unafraid. Wilma turned the starfighter again, slowing down, bringing it to an easy landing near him. She and Hawk opened the door, and Buck slowly walked forward, meeting them halfway to the ship. "Wilma, Hawk. What are you doing here?" he said.

Hawk answered for both of them. "We came to be with you."


	5. Chapter 5

Buck smiled at them, but body language told a different tale as he pulled back slightly, retreating into himself. "Look, you two, I appreciate the thought, but I just need some time by myself to think through a few things. I'll be back; don't worry. You two can return to the Searcher."

"No," Hawk said flatly.

Wilma's words overlapped his. "You don't need to be alone right now, Buck."

Buck was starting to get a little annoyed, and it showed in his tone. "I don't need a babysitter _._ Thanks for the thought, but I am _fine._ "

"No, you aren't," Wilma shot back. "Do you have any idea just how close you came to getting killed a minute ago?"

He didn't, clearly. He looked blank. "If you mean when you just about ran over me with the starfighter..."

"No, I don't. Why do you think I flew it that close to you while going fast? You were just about to be attacked, Buck. I was scaring them off."

"Attacked?" He looked around. "Any enemies I have don't know where I am right now."

Wilma sighed. He could be so _stubborn_ at times. Hawk stepped in. "I saw it as well, Buck. There were four people sneaking up on you from behind with clubs. Wilma came even closer to them than to you. If she hadn't scared them away, you would be lying here with your head smashed in right now."

"If they were after me, I would have realized it before they got much closer," Buck countered.

"No, you wouldn't." Hawk's tone was definite. "You were absolutely lost in your own world. You didn't even notice the starfighter until we were right on top of you."

"Buck," Wilma said, "you can't just stand around on the outside with your mind back 500 years ago. It's dangerous. You were _making_ yourself a target." He was beginning to believe them, at least partially, though he still wondered if they were exaggerating the risk. She pressed on. "Buck, I understand if you need to look around old Earth some. I can't imagine how hard the last few days have been on you. But we aren't going to let you do it alone. For one thing, you've just proved that you aren't safe right now on your own, but for another thing, you aren't alone. Yes, you've lost everything back then, and I'm sorry, but you are _not_ alone in this century. You have friends and people who care about you right here. And Hawk and I aren't going to let you forget it."

Buck studied both of them, affection warring with annoyance on his face. "Look, you're good friends, but..."

"Thank you," Wilma replied. "That's settled, then." She took a step closer to him, as did Hawk on the other side.

Buck looked from one of them to the other. "You're not giving me a choice on this, are you?"

"No," Hawk said firmly. Buck sighed.

"But," said Wilma, "what we do and where we go is up to you. We're just going to be with you every step of the way. So where do we start?"


	6. Chapter 6

Buck turned around and took a few steps away from them, looking back toward the desolate rubble. Wilma promptly stepped up beside him again. "Is this the Johnson Space Center?" she asked.

Buck nodded, then sighed. "No. No, it isn't. Not anymore. You should have seen it, Wilma. Mission control, all the training complexes, the experiments, the activity. It was like its own city." He waved a hand at the few people still around. "They have no idea. None of them. Nobody even knows it was ever here except me. Even you were guessing; I could tell. And it's just a name to you. Doesn't mean anything." His shoulders sagged a little under the weight of 500 years of displaced time again.

Wilma gripped his arm, trying to let him feel the connection to the present. She remembered when he had been feeling so isolated and alone over his first birthday in this time. The party really had seemed to cheer him up, and of course, the mission and being useful had done more to snap him out of it. But somehow, she didn't think arranging a "happy acquittal" party would be such a good idea, and life-saving missions couldn't just be manufactured at will. The timing of the plot against Dr. Huer had been pure coincidence. The Searcher's current mission had them doing not much but traveling for the next week before they came to a likely quadrant to explore and Buck would have a chance at a mission. Also, as tough as his first birthday in this century had been on him, she knew that the trial had been far more stressful. He was in a worse place mentally right now than he had ever been back at that birthday. How could she get his mind on something else at the moment besides what he had lost?

Hawk had come up on the other side, and he broke the silence that was lengthening over the three of them. "So much was lost from my culture, too, and all of my people gone. All except me. I, too, am one of a kind. You are the one who reminded me how necessary it is to keep looking forward, Buck."

Buck gave a faint smile. "I know. And you're right. It's just...he really thought that. Jim. The others; he probably told at least a few others. People I knew, I worked with and respected. People who respected me. They're not only lost; they also died thinking _I_ did it. That's hard to come to grips with, no matter what the verdict was yesterday. I kept dreaming about him last night, at least until I gave up on sleeping."

Wilma tightened her grip on his arm, but his words reminded her of more practical considerations. He was not only stressed out; he was exhausted, still hadn't had any rest worth having for nearly three days now, and she doubted he had remembered to eat today at any point at all. His physical condition was only adding to his frame of mind at this point. She could at least start helping that.

"Buck, let's head back into New Houston and get something to eat." He tensed up, starting to protest, and Hawk backed her up.

"We do not need to stay out here past dark. And we do need to eat; Wilma and I never stopped for lunch. We've been chasing you all day." Hawk didn't add that he was sure Buck hadn't stopped for lunch, either, nor had breakfast before leaving.

Buck abruptly gave up, something that worried both of them a little. "Okay. Might as well; there's nothing out here anyway. Not any more." He kicked at the nearest piece of rubble, then turned toward the starfighter, starting walking so quickly that it took them a few steps to catch up to him.

They packed tightly into the starfighter, and Wilma asked Buck if he wanted to fly. She was hoping he did; she knew he loved flying. Tonight, though, he declined. He was nearly silent during the short hop back to the space port, his eyes scanning the terrain they were leaving, even though it was getting dark enough now that he couldn't see much.

They landed and parked the craft, then walked out into the busy city. Wilma couldn't help noticing the difference now that they were inside the environmental bubble. The sky was dark here, too, but there were lights and activity all around, and the temperature was perfect. "Where do you want to eat?" she asked.

Buck shrugged. "I don't even know what's here. This is your world."

"Yours, too," she insisted. She picked a restaurant at random, and the three of them settled at a table. She ordered an actual meal, not food discs, even though that made it much more expensive. Buck still protested that he wasn't hungry, but once the food came and he started eating, his body took over for him. He was the first one done out of the three of them, polishing off every bite. He looked at the empty plate in surprise.

"Guess I was hungry after all."

"When was the last time you really ate?" she asked. He hadn't done much more than pick at meals during the breaks in the trial, either.

He took a minute to think it over, trying to reach an answer, and Hawk shook his head. "If it's that hard to recall, it's been too long. Now, we need to find a room to rent for the night," he suggested. "We've all had a long day."

Buck put up some token resistance, but it wasn't much. He was visibly sagging a little by now. Wilma rented a room for them, and she talked Buck into taking a hot shower. While he was in there, she used the communicator station on the wall, adding a subspace call to their bill and contacting the Searcher. "We found Buck," she reported. "We're not coming back right away, though."

"Is he all right?" Asimov asked.

"Not really," she replied. "He's worn out tonight. I'm hoping he can get some actual sleep, and that might help with working on processing things tomorrow."

"Well, good luck, Colonel," he replied, and Twiki threw in a final comment just before the link closed.

"Bidibidibidi. Tell him to keep his chin up." The screen went blank.

"I wish I knew quite what to tell him," she said to Hawk.

"A good night's sleep will help all of us," he said. "We will be able to think better in the morning." He looked around. The rental room had two small beds in it, plus a chair. He settled down in the chair. "You two can have the beds. I can sleep anywhere."

"It's kind of small, but I didn't want to get two rooms," she said. "Harder to escape from two of us than one just in case he tried that later."

Hawk nodded. At that moment, Buck emerged from the shower, looking half asleep already. He noticed Hawk's position at once. "We should have gotten a room for each of us. That would be more comfortable."

"No." Wilma and Hawk replied in unison.

Buck grinned. "I might almost think you two don't trust me." He stretched out on one of the beds. "Whoever is next in line for the shower, go ahead." Hawk and Wilma held a silent consultation with their eyes, and then Hawk stood up and retreated to the bathroom.

Wilma sat down on the edge of the other bed, but the two were close enough, just a small nightstand between, that she could reach out across the gap and touch his arm. She had noticed that even while trying to act independent, he had settled down on the side closest to her, moving toward his friends, not away. She ran her hand up and down his upper arm soothingly. "I do trust you, Buck," she said. "Both of us do."

His eyes were half closed, but he smiled, and it wasn't a deflection this time. "I know. Thanks."

"You deserve it. I meant what I said the other night. There is no man I've ever respected more." He seemed to relax a little on the words, and by the time Hawk rejoined them, he was already asleep.

"Your turn," Hawk said softly.

Wilma stood up. "I'm not sure what to do," she admitted. She hated the words. Even on minor things, she liked being organized and efficient, and this was far from minor.

"For tonight, we rest," Hawk said. "He isn't alone in this. Neither are you."

She decided that was as good advice as any for the moment. She was tired herself; she only hoped Buck was exhausted enough to truly sleep tonight. She went on to the shower, leaving Hawk on guard, and as she closed the bathroom door, she took one last look at Buck. He lay absolutely still, beyond even dreams for the moment. With a sigh, she closed the door and tried to make herself relax under the hot water. Tomorrow would come soon enough.


	7. Chapter 7

To Wilma's relief, the night passed relatively peacefully. Buck became restless twice, shifting and mumbling something unintelligible, but he settled down as soon as she got a hand on his shoulder, and he never woke up. Most of the time, he slept deeply, exhaustion taking over.

The other two were awake in the morning well before he was, and they retreated to the bathroom for a private, soft conference, wanting to let him sleep as long as he could.

"The rest will help," Hawk said. "I doubt he got any sleep at all the night before the trial, and since he left the Searcher at 1:30 yesterday morning, he couldn't have gotten much the night after it."

"Hopefully he'll be feeling better today," Wilma agreed.

"I wonder where he went first yesterday," Hawk mused.

He lost Wilma briefly. "First? What do you mean?"

"Think of the time table, Wilma. He left the Searcher at 1:30. There's too much of a time gap until he landed in New Houston. Unless he was flying around in circles, he had to go somewhere else first."

She hadn't thought of that, too focused on catching up with him to dissect the time table. They hadn't left the Searcher themselves until mid morning, having both slept later than usual, worn out from events, and having expected Buck to do the same.

"Maybe he went to Washington, DC, their old capital. That was the other place Theo said he would have worked a lot with Jim Anderson. I hope he didn't go there. He showed it to me once when we were doing something on the East Coast. If you think the area outside of New Houston looks bad, Washington is a lot worse. You can't even tell there _was_ a city there anymore. I never would have known that was the site if he hadn't been with me. The general area is mentioned in the history, but not the exact location. Seeing that again wouldn't have done much for him." She edged to the door and looked across the room at Buck, then ducked back in.

"Still sound asleep?" Hawk asked.

She nodded. "I was thinking. The other time he really got depressed in this century was his first birthday here. The trial had to be a lot more stressful, but he was locked back in the past then, too." She filled Hawk in on that eventful birthday.

"Being useful," Hawk said thoughtfully. "That is a very good method of cheering him up, but it sounds like saving Dr. Huer was a coincidence."

"Yes. I wish we could think of _some_ way, some easier way than endangering somebody, something we could schedule, where he would feel useful and connected to this world. Some way where he could help us here."

Hawk was considering. "That might work. Although I think what would reach him even better is some way where he could help _them_. All of his friends back then. Where the last memory he had involving them wouldn't be them thinking he betrayed them. Unfortunately, that's impossible, as they are all dead."

"Unfortunately, yes." Wilma shook her head. "How could Jim Anderson, if he was Buck's best friend, have thought he really did that? Even with the video." She had never doubted Buck's innocence herself, no matter what testimony she had to watch. Nobody stationed on the ship and serving with him had. She had known all along that there had to be _some_ explanation.

"He was probably under pressure from others. He was also injured and under extreme stress himself with the holocaust accelerating. I am sure that deep down, he must have still had doubts. If he really knew Buck, he had to."

At that moment, they heard Buck stirring, and they went back into the main room.

"Wow." Buck sat up on the side of the bed and looked at the chronometer. "You two should have woken me up."

"Why?" Wilma asked. She studied him. He definitely looked better today physically, his eyes clearer, but he still didn't look like himself, and the lines of stress were still there.

"We've already wasted half of the morning. Not that I guess that matters. It's not like we had anything important to do." The clouds were almost visibly settling down over him again as he stood up.

They all went out to a late breakfast, and then Wilma asked as they finished, "What do you want to do today, Buck?"

"Doesn't make any difference. Whatever you all want to do. I already went where I wanted to yesterday, and it didn't change a thing."

"Where else did you go yesterday besides New Houston?" Hawk asked.

Buck retreated into himself again. "What makes you think I went anywhere else? Isn't seeing what used to be the Johnson Space Center enough?"

"It's enough," Wilma agreed, "but we know you, Buck. There's too much time before you landed here, and you wouldn't have done nothing with it." He didn't reply. "Did you go to Washington, D.C."

Direct hit, and his body language registered it even while his words denied it. "No," he answered curtly.

Wilma sighed. "Did you go where Washington, D.C., _used_ to be?" She knew that he hated telling an outright lie.

"What would be the point?" He stood up from the restaurant table. "Nothing's there. It's all gone." The others stood and followed him as he left the restaurant.

"I'd like to see it," Hawk put in suddenly. "Let's fly over there anyway. You can show it to us."

Buck shook his head. "You don't want to see it. And I don't want to see it again. It's _nothing_ like it was, even worse than the Space Center yesterday. I'm not sure which is worse, absolutely burned wasteland left there or having some smashed rubble still here that's nothing more than a curiosity or a hiding place to people. They don't _know_. None of them. Those people yesterday didn't even realize where they were. Even if they knew the name, they'll never be able to have any idea what old earth was like."

Wilma jolted to a stop as the idea struck. She took a few seconds to examine it, then plunged on ahead. It was the best idea either she or Hawk had had so far. Wouldn't hurt to bounce it off Buck and see how he reacted to it. "That's _it!"_

Buck and Hawk both turned and looked back at her. "That's what?" Buck asked.

She hurried on to catch up with them. "Buck, what if they _could_ know what old earth was like? Washington DC, the Space Center, the other major points. What if they could see it? Maybe we _can_ all see what you remember, and then other people could appreciate it, too."

He looked at her like she had suddenly sprouted a tail. "Wilma, what are you talking about? They _can't_ see it. I'm the only one who remembers, nobody else." The loneliness of 500 years removed gave his voice a bitter edge.

"But that's something that maybe we could change. I'm talking about the OEI." She eagerly started outlining her plan, and by the time she was done, Hawk was looking impressed, and even Buck's interest was caught somewhat. He wasn't totally believing her, but he wasn't refusing, either. Hurriedly, they searched for a main communications panel, and Wilma called New Chicago, contacting Dr. Huer.


	8. Chapter 8

"There. Is that comfortable?" Dr. Huer finished attaching the OEI device.

"Yes," Buck replied. He was tense but anticipating, too. For the first time in the last day, he seemed to be totally present with his friends in spite of the task ahead.

"All right." Dr. Huer gave him a light pat on the shoulder as he stepped back. "The image recorder is set as soon as I turn on the screen, and the voice recorder will start once I push that button. After that, Buck, it's up to you. Whatever you want to show us, it's all being captured. We can edit it later if you wish, and once you are satisfied, these files will go into the archives to share with others."

Wilma and Hawk looked at each other, both hoping that this would work. They were right now more concerned with Buck himself than with anything he could show them. Dr. Huer turned on the screen and then hit the audio record button. Silently, he retreated back to the wall. Dr. Theopolis was here, too, around the neck of an ambuquad who was decidedly not Twiki.

Buck closed his eyes, then reopened them as the screen came into sharp focus. "This is Washington, D.C.," he started.

The screen presented an aerial view, laying it out, then swooping in on the elegant obelisk. Wilma felt her breath catch. It was beautiful. The clean, crisp lines of the monument, dominating the city, reaching for the sky. The green grass surrounding it. Green grass! It was such a rarity on her earth.

Buck continued. "This is the Washington Monument. It's the tallest-" He paused, then corrected himself. "It was the tallest structure in the city. They even made that a law. Nothing could come close to it, so it would dominate. It was built in honor of George Washington, the first President of the United States."

And one of the ones on Mount Rushmore, Wilma remembered from the sign. The only four Presidents most people nowadays would have any knowledge of were on that mountain.

As if in response to her thoughts, Buck shifted his aerial tour a little, running along the city to another building, much lower but with solid columns giving it a sturdy grace. "This is the Lincoln Memorial." Via the screen, they went inside as Buck recited Lincoln's impressive credentials and showed them around the statue and inscriptions.

The tour continued. The White House. The Capitol. Other grand memorials. Arlington Cemetery. Then Buck said, "But one of the most impressive things in Washington, D.C., was the cherry trees. Every spring, they would bloom." Wilma's jaw dropped at the explosion of fluffy pink blossoms on the screen. Next to her, Hawk leaned forward a little, as if that could close the gap of centuries. Dr. Huer was spellbound as well, and Dr. Theopolis' lights flashed in silent admiration.

Buck finally ran down for the moment, at least and sat there silently, looking at the cherry trees himself. Dr. Huer slowly came back to life and switched off the audio recorder. "Would you like a break, Buck?"

Wilma looked at her chronometer. "It's almost time for dinner."

Dr. Huer was surprised himself. "Really? I hadn't realized."

Buck shook his head. "Can't be. Not yet." Unbelievably, he had been recording Washington D.C. for them for an hour and a half.

"I insist that you all three let me take you out to dinner," Dr. Huer stated. "I'd like to hear some of the Searcher's adventures, too. I've tried to keep track, but I'm sure there are inside details that haven't made it into the ship logs."

"We certainly haven't been bored," Buck said. Dr. Huer removed the OEI, and he stood up and stretched.

Wilma touched Buck on the arm. "That was beautiful. It really was absolutely beautiful, wasn't it?"

His eyes focused off in the distance again, no OEI required, but they then came back to meet hers. "It was," he agreed.

"Once my people had such, too." Hawk had been quiet all afternoon once they'd arrived at the Directorate, but he spoke up now. "I don't have as many direct memories myself, but I think I might like to try this, too. To record the stories, the drawings, what was shared with me. The culture. So it won't be lost. Thank you, Buck."

Buck looked at him. "That's a wonderful idea, Hawk. It shouldn't be lost. But remember, this was Wilma's idea, so thank her."

"I'll thank both of you," Dr. Huer said. "That was remarkable, Buck. Now, about that dinner…"

"But not food discs," Buck insisted.

Huer smiled. "I know you better than that. No, we'll have an actual meal, the best New Chicago has to offer. Come on."


	9. Chapter 9

"Buck, I owe you an apology," Wilma said.

He looked over at her briefly, puzzled, before returning his attention forward. He was flying his starfighter, heading back out to catch up with the Searcher, and she sat next to him. Off their left wing, Hawk was flying her ship. "Apology? For what?"

She tried to frame into words the thoughts that had come home to her over the last two days in New Chicago. Sitting there silently, watching Buck go through several sessions of recording, she had been stunned by old Earth. She had suggested this just to help Buck get over his post-trial shock and depression, and it definitely had had that effect. He still looked a bit worn from the last week, but he seemed fully like himself again. But she'd never expected the impact that his memories would have on her.

He glanced at her again. "Going to keep me waiting another 500 years?" he teased.

She smiled, relieved that he was able to play with her again, but when she spoke, her words were serious. "I'd never realized - I mean, I know that you come from another time. But whenever I thought about that and the differences, it's been more an oddity than anything else, something to laugh at briefly and then turn away. That world was never real to me. And now that I've seen just a little bit of it, I realize that I haven't been fair to you. Even now, I'm sure I don't know what the 20th century was like, but any time you want to talk, I'd be interested in hearing about it. Not to make fun of it this time or think how strange it was, but to appreciate it. I never gave you that. I didn't really let you keep it alive, even part of it. And I'm sorry."

He gave her the compliment of a totally sincere reply, not ducking emotion as he often did. "Wilma, you have been what's kept me sane after landing in this century. And Dr. Huer and Hawk and Twiki and others, of course. But you more than any of them. You've been there for me so many times. You have nothing to apologize for. And that night after the charges were made, I was that close to totally giving up. The shock of everything. I just couldn't handle it."

She nodded. She had known from the time she entered his cabin that he was as low as she had ever seen him that night, all of his spirit gone. "Being hit with that accusation from your friend would have sent anybody reeling, Buck. I'm glad I was there to help you. You've been there for us plenty of times. That's what friends do for each other."

"Yes." The stargate loomed up ahead, and he punched in the coordinates on the control panel. Wilma put the conversation on pause while he steered the ship into the twirling diamond of lights. His hands were steady, but she saw the rest of him flinch as they popped through the space warp. Many times, she had teased him about his reaction to the portals, but somehow, fresh off the last few days, it wasn't as much of a joke today as it had been before. He was from a different time. Of course, some things in their world would upset his equilibrium, probably more things than he ever admitted. She simply sat quietly, not saying anything, giving him a chance to recover.

He looked back across at her once the immediate strain had left him. "You know, you and Hawk risked everything trying to help me when we escaped for Mount Rushmore. Your career. Hawk's still on probation. You could have been throwing your own lives away."

"You're worth it," she said firmly. "And Buck, neither one of us ever doubted you were innocent. We knew there had to be an explanation somewhere. In fact, I think now that I should have put it together before. You are so good at undercover work, playing a part. You've done that for Dr. Huer lots of times."

"Always liked role playing, even as a kid," he agreed. "With this trial, though, I never suspected that. Not until I saw it on the OEI there at the end. I was thinking I really was guilty."

She shook her head. "Not possible. And you know, Buck, I'm sure that Jim had some doubts, too. He was injured and in shock himself when he made that recording. His world was falling apart around him. But still, I think he wasn't 100% sure. He couldn't have been. Not if he knew you."

His eyes retreated into the past briefly, then returned. "I hope so. Still wish I could talk to him again and tell him."

"I'm sure you do." She reached over to touch his arm. "I meant it, Buck. If you ever want to talk about things back then - or about anything else, for that matter - I'm here. And I'll try to listen better than I have in the past."

He looked down at her hand on his arm. "I always believed back then that Jim was the best friend I ever had. But you and Hawk are pretty good friends, too. You're right up there with him."

She tightened her fingers. "I haven't had nearly the number of friends in life you've had, but there's no question from my standpoint. You're definitely the best friend I've ever had."

He smiled, then reached out to the communications panel. The Searcher was just coming into sight up ahead. "Searcher, this is Rogers. We're starting our approach."

Admiral Asimov's face lit up the small screen. "Welcome home, Buck. We'll see you after you land."

"It's good to be home," Buck replied. He switched off the com link, then turned the starfighter, lining up with the hanger bay. Wilma let out a deep sigh. This last week was finally over.

Buck heard the thought. He looked over at her and grinned. "Just think, what does next week have in store for us?"

She half cringed but still had to laugh. "Whatever it is, we're in it together."

"Absolutely," he agreed as he soared through the wide door, bringing them in for a perfect landing.


End file.
